Fake Princess
CHAPTER 98
“ Listen,” Paula said while tucking her black hair loose behind her ears, “ because maybe I won't remember to tell you again for a very long time—only the God Without a Name knows that I barely remember what lessons I gave you, let alone give you compliments. You have power, Amelia, and it's not your fault that power has been dormant for years. If you were like any other normal magician and discovered your talents as a child, I'm sure you're now blazing your way to an important position.”
I sat down silently as Paula turned around and struggled with her pots for a while. I almost decided to ask if he still needed my help for anything else when suddenly his head moved like a bird and looked at me. “ I don't know if I ever told you, but the last time I had a protege was fifteen years ago. He's a good young man, very strong, but his family has Farvasee's blood, and I've never met a reckless Farvasee. To be honest, it makes them boring. But he will do whatever spell I ask—he is like a submissive and sweet child, very well educated.”
“ I don't think I'm like that,” I muttered.
“ I let it go,” uja Paula. “ The next day no less than four college witches came to my house, begging me to change my mind. But I didn't do it. No potential on him, no imagination space.”
“ I don't care how long it takes you to control your magic, Amelia.” Paula grinned and stuck her head out, staring into the distance. “ Because I want to be next to you when it happens. I guess—and, you know, my guess about something like this rarely misses—it would be something great to watch.”
However, I am not the kind of person who likes to put off work for too long; that trait is already imprinted in me as a princess, and does not seem to want to be lost as a copyist. So, after checking all the new books and deciding they did not contain any strong spells, I asked for an afternoon off and sent Devan a message.
Devan found me outside the gate, he was clutching a long robe. “ I think it's best not to have too many watching you wander around here,” Devan said as he raised his shoulders. “ If the culprit is Melani, chances are she's in the palace, and if Omar, maybe she'll leave a spy.”
I took the robe and put it on my shoulder, pulling the hood around my face. The robe was hot, too hot for warm weather, and I guess I must have looked weird. But the guards barely glanced at me while walking behind Devan—an advantage passed through the gate with the son of the Earl of Rithia.
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